


How It All Begins

by LizzyDizzyYo



Series: Not Exactly My Type (Typesign/Omegaverse Series) [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Character(s) of Color, Dubious Consent, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Mpreg, Nathaniel Khiem Leighton/Matthew Langdon - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyDizzyYo/pseuds/LizzyDizzyYo
Summary: He starts losing more and more of semblance of sound mind, his vision blurring out and focusing repeatedly. At some point, he slides his back down against his front door–he doesn’t know when he walked there–his fingers clawing and scratching at the carpet below him. He is squeezing his eyes, desperately holding onto his reserve, when he hears another drunken-like call of his name.Matthew is about to hit his heat just as his boyfriend is entering his heat too, but they're not ready for that intimate step yet. How will Matt deal with this, if he is even capable at all?(can be read as a standalone)
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Not Exactly My Type (Typesign/Omegaverse Series) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/707505
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	How It All Begins

**Author's Note:**

> This is the heat that takes place in chapter II of NEMT from Matt's perspective. If you want to know the full context (not necessary though), you can read it [ here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560357/chapters/21791888)

His hands are shaking so badly when he is holding his phone and scrolling through the screen. The smell permeating the apartment and his own feverish mind are wrecking him, but not enough that he completely loses his mind.

At least, not yet.

So he puts his phone against his ear as the connecting beeping goes, his other hand gripping the edge of the kitchen counter so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Come on, Jeffery. Pick the fuck up.”

He lays his head down to the wooden surface while still gripping the edge as he waits. His face is scrunched up almost in pain.

_“Yo dawg, wassup?”_

He exhales a relieved breath when he hears it.

“Jeff, hey man, I need your help,” he immediately shoots at his friend.

_“With what? And why do you sound like that?”_

“Doesn’t matter,” he pants, “I need your help delaying my heat.”

 _“Ooooh,”_ Jeff answers lightly.

“Yeah, can you come by here with some suppressants, and,” he exhales and gulps, “I don’t know, shit ton of ice?”

_“Well, why would you wanna delay it? I thought you said your doctor told you to ride this one out.”_

“My boyfriend is here.”

Surprisingly, he hears the man on the other line barks out a laugh.

_“Well, perfect then. Get him to help you out. What’s the problem?”_

He pinches the bridge of his nose, keeping his anger at bay. “He’s a fucking virgin. He’s never done anything with anyone before.”

_“Well, tell him to leave you alone. Why you gotta make this so complicated, man?”_

“He’s in heat too.”

There is some creaking on the other side and some silence.

 _“Oh… shit,”_ Jeff says finally, understanding the problem.

“Yeah. Exactly. Oh shit.”

_“Well, didn’t he tell you before? I mean if he’s gonna be riding out his heat too alongside yours, he should have known the risk.”_

“Fuck, Jeff, can’t you just help me out!” he yells out frustratedly.

On the background, he hears another moan and wailing of his name behind his bedroom door. He squeezes the edge of his kitchen cabinet again, trying to hold himself together.

_“Look, man, I don’t know if I can get off work early today.”_

He growls angrily and desperately, “Can’t you just tell them it’s a medical emergency?!”

 _“Jeez, fine, fine,”_ he finally hears another creaking sound of his friend getting off his chair, _“Why is it such a big deal anyway? Like, you’re his boyfriend. He isn’t having heat in the back alley somewhere.”_

“He has a history with his ex, okay? I don’t wanna do this to him.”

He hears Jeff sighs, though he still tells him, _“Aight, man. I’ll come by as soon as I can with what you need. Lock yourself out while I’m at it.”_

“Already did.”

_“Okay, see ya in, uh, 20?”_

“Just come here quickly, all right?” he exhales again, hand searching for a hand towel, then he wets it under the sink, “Get as much suppressants as you can, and ice. And whatever. I’ll pay you back.” He puts the wet fabric against his nose to block out some of the smell.

When he hears the click of the call ending, he exhales a shuddering but relieved breath and closes his eyes. He turns around and leans back against the kitchen counter, still with one hand squeezing the wood and the other pressing wet hand towel against his nose and mouth.

He starts losing more and more of semblance of sound mind, his vision blurring out and focusing repeatedly. At some point, he slides his back down against his front door–he doesn’t know when he walked there–his fingers clawing and scratching at the carpet below him. He is squeezing his eyes, desperately holding onto his reserve, when he hears another drunken-like call of his name. He then suddenly hears repeated three-in-a-row beeping which reminds him he has thermometer in his mouth.

He takes it out and looks at the screen.

104 degrees.

“Fuck,” he screams, throwing the thermometer hard in no particular direction. He runs his fingers through his hair and pulls them out of frustration.

Then he is shocked out of mind by the urgent knocking–or maybe _hitting_ is a more appropriate description–of the door behind him.

He immediately shoots up and turns around, fumbling with the door handle nervously before managing to open the door and pulling it wide open.

He is greeted with a sight of absolute anger and bewilderment from his dark-skinned friend while he is hugging a giant plastic bag and trembling.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing with a girl in there?”

“What?” he confusedly asks Jeff.

“That is _not_ a guy’s heat pheromones. I’m not fucking stupid, Matt.”

“That’s my boyfriend, I’m telling you.”

Jeff chuckles sarcastically.

“You made up a fucking lie about your boyfriend going into heat just so that I’ll cover your ass for cheating on him? With a _fucking_ girl?”

“I’m not, I swear Jeff!”

“I could smell the Omega heat pheromones from all the way down the 8th floor!” he yells back, “I know ‘cause that’s how ma girl smells when she’s getting into one.”

Right on cue, the yelling and calling of Matt’s name is heard again. Although high-pitched and desperate sounding, it’s unmistakably a masculine voice.

Jeff widens his dark eyes.

“A girl, you say?” Matt sarcastically asks his friend.

“How many truckloads of enticement perfume did your boyfriend douse himself with?” Jeff asks incredulously.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Where’s the stuff?” he desperately says, fumbling to grab whatever Jeff is holding.

When he notices his friend is almost frozen in trance instead of helping him gets his stuff, he suddenly feels a primal anger and territorial urge. Even with the almost black eyes, he can see clearly the pupils on Jeff eyes’ dilating.

“Hey,” he yells angrily.

That seems to do the trick. Jeff immediately snaps out and gulps down before fumbling around with the plastic bag too.

“Here’s the nondescript suppressants,” Jeff says as he fishes around the plastic and bring out two bottles of said medication, “and here’s the–”

Matt doesn’t listen. He just immediately snatches the bottles and snaps open the lid, almost tumbling it down and sending the content everywhere. He bends his head back then pours down the content of one of the bottles into his mouth.

“Hey! Hey! Slow the fuck down. You’re not overdosing on shitty suppressants on my watch!” Jeff exclaims, dropping the bag he is holding in favor of pulling back the bottle that Matt is pouring.

There are at least already ten pills in his mouth by that time, which he immediately accompanies with the tap water near him and swallows painfully.

“All right, that’s enough. You’re not taking anymore.”

“I fucking need them, Jeff.”

“Pace. Yourself,” Jeff firmly commands him.

He pulls himself back and gulps again.

“I’m gonna get you an ice bath, all right? Just stay away from your bedroom.”

“Okay,” Matt responds dumbfoundedly and walks back, away from the front door and in turn, the said bedroom.

He hears a yelling, _‘fucking hell’_ as he sees his friend moving about to transfer the bag into his bathroom. It takes at least ten minutes of him hearing some ice being poured and hitting the porcelain wall of his bathtub, then the showers being turned on, before he sees his friend emerges with shaky steps.

“What the fuck did he take, Matt? That smell is way too fucking strong.”

“I don’t know,” he desperately says again.

“I can’t go back in there.”

“Jeff, you said you’re gonna help me!”

“Look that smell, Matthew! How the fuck am I supposed to not be affected by it?”

“Just help restrain me or something.”

Jeff, standing at the same height as him and with just as much confusion on his face, looks back again to where he hears another moaning from the bedroom.

“Do you, I don’t know, have blanket, fabric, towel, curtain or anything?”

Matt looks lost. “They’re in the bedroom.”

“Shit.”

“Maybe there’s something we can use in the bathroom.”

“I can’t walk back in there!” Jeff yells out again.

“Please.”

At the pleading voice of his blond friend, Jeff sighs resignedly.

“Okay, okay. Let’s grab the bottles, restrain you in there, and hope for the best, all right?”

“Thanks,” Matt says genuinely, still panting and feverish.

Matt grabs the said bottles and they walk back in, quietly and carefully, both covering their mouths and noses with their hands when they walk past the bedroom door.

When they get into the bathroom, Jeff immediately slams the door closed to filter out at least a little bit of the smell and the moaning sound.

“Get in there now,” the afro-haired man commands while pointing at the tub.

Matt looks at it warily, already trembling before he even gets into the tub full of ice.

“What are you waiting for?!”

That prompts him to finally take shaky steps into the tub. He puts one leg in slowly, and still fully clothed, then another. Jeff impatiently pushes his shoulders to submerge him in the bath, earning a sharp hiss from the blond.

“Here’s your suppressants, okay?” Jeff says as he puts the two bottles on the side of the tub next to other bottles of shampoo and soaps, “You take three every 6 hours. No more, no less.”

“Aren’t you gonna keep track of me?”

Jeff only looks at him sadly.

“Jeff, I need someone to keep me in check.”

“Get a Beta, or your sister. Trust me, you don’t want me here with you.”

Jeff then walks away to the cupboards and cabinets in the bathroom, slamming each one open and then closed until he finds some towels.

“I think this one is long enough,” he says as he takes one to where Matt is shivering in the tub. “Give me your arm.”

Matt complies, giving his left hand to Jeff to be tied by one end of the towel. He watches as Jeff holds the other end, eyes searching for something to tie it to. Their eyes finally fall on to the metal hanger beside the shower curtain where Matt usually puts his wet towel to dry.

“Fuck,” Matt hears Jeff exclaims again as one dark arm goes to cover his nose while he is squeezing his eyes. After a while, Jeff continues tying the other end to the metal bar, tugging it in the end to make sure it’s strong enough.

“Okay, what else?”

Matt looks around to think and remember if there’s any other precaution he needs to take. It’s hard to do when his mind is muddled by his starting heat and the freezing cold of the bath.

“Bedroom.”

Jeff blanches.

“The key, I mean. Put it somewhere I can’t find.”

“You want me to go near your bedroom?” Jeff asks incredulously.

“Just take the key and throw it somewhere!”

“Okay, okay!”

Jeff turns around to the closed door, his dread overflowing off his body that Matt can practically feel it. Jeff gulps again, and takes a step forward with feet feeling like lead.

He finally opens the bathroom door and peers outside to where the bedroom is.

“Shit I don’t think I can.”

“Just _fucking_ do it!”

Jeff looks desperately at Matt before relenting and walking out. Matt hears thudding of steps until he hears keys jiggling then thrown away. It sounds far and muffled enough that he probably can’t find it if he somehow gets away.

Jeff then shows up again, this time with resolute face.

“I’m leaving.”

“Jeff, just–”

“I don’t give a fuck. I’ve helped you enough for now.”

He desperately asks, “What if I get away in the middle of my heat peak?”

“Then good luck.”

“Jeff!”

“I’m outta here,” Jeff declares, both hands up in surrender while taking shaky steps back.

“Jeffery, please, help me!” Matt screams at him, getting up, stumbling out of bathtub. His tied hand tugs him back and sends him flailing to the floor with a loud thud, effectively stopping him from getting to his friend.

“No, I can’t and I won’t. You know if we both stay here, he’s gonna end up getting fucked to hell and back by two guys instead of just one.”

Matt knows that, he knows, but he can’t deal with this alone. God, he doesn’t want to do anything to Nate that they’re both going to regret.

“You better fucking stay in that tub, Man.”

Matt growls almost animalistically. “Make me, then.”

“You don’t fucking want me to help you right now, Matthew!” his dark-skinned friend screams back in anger. Then his look turns pitying at the figure on the tiles–panting, sweating, and going crazy.

Somewhere in his hazy mind, Matt logically knows it’s true. Two Alpha guys near an Omega in heat, regardless of whether the two guys are in heat too or not, just simply spell trouble. Hell, it will still most likely cause disaster even if the guys are Beta. And regardless of whether the Omega is female or, apparently, male.

“You know the law only says you’re clear off sexual assault charge if you’re both in heat or you can reasonably expect to come into one within ten days,” Jeff explains desperately, panting too in between words, “and medically proven.”

“I KNOW WHAT THE LAW SAYS!” Matt yells again.

“I’m not going to jail or on sex offender list, Man. My girlfriend is gonna kill me. She knows I’m not supposed to be on my cycle until next month.”

“Fuck,” Matt sobs, cowering on the bathroom floor.

“You know what they’re gonna do to people like us, Matt, especially like me. 60% of guys in jails are Alpha guys, and the black ones? A lot more.”

Matt weeps out, feeling his friend taking even more steps back. He looks up and sees Jeff pulling up the collar of his shirt to cover his nose.

“I’ve done what I could, I gave you that cheap-ass over the counter suppressants ‘cause that’s the best I could find, gave you nice tub-full of ice–and you better get back in there right now,” Jeff takes some steps closer to urge him back into the tub, “even tied your fucking hand there too, then threw away your bedroom key–I don’t even know where the fuck I threw it.”

Matt hugs his own body with his untied hand as he shakily stumbles back into the ice water, feeling sweats still pouring out of his skin despite it.

“My job here is done.”

Matt just continues panting and scratching his own arm to anchor himself as he watches his friend take more steps back.

“You both are gonna have a _lot_ to talk about when you’re done.”

Then his friend scurries out of the bathroom, feet skidding and almost stumbling on the tiles. Few seconds later, he hears his front door slammed closed and running steps fading away.

Fuck. He’s fucked.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if you're wondering whom these characters are based on, you can read [ Life Excerpt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567415/chapters/67431244) to see the non-A/B/O original version.


End file.
